A jar of gherkins reminds me of the sea around the British Isles – murky, seaweed-green and mysterious – and of that bizarre marine animal, the sea cucumber (though sea gherkin would perhaps be more accurate, given how similar some species look). Gherkins also happen to be one of my favourite foods, though I usually eat them straight from the jar and rarely save any for all those recipes that benefit from their addition, from potato salads to bloody marys.
I like a gherkin that puckers the mouth with a sour smack to the gustatory cortex. It should also be salty, but not overpoweringly so – some of those I tested tasted of salt, vinegar and not much else. Aromatics such as onion, mustard and dill intensify when pickled, so how much is used needs to be well considered; too much mustard or black pepper, say, catches in the throat, while too much red pepper turns the liquor soupy. Dill, however, is essential.
